There's a storm in my teacup!

Well, in my dollar store mug.

I was meant to do so much. And here I am having done sod all. I wanted to deserve a pat on the back. I now deserve a slap in the face for my lack of effort.

I woke up late, then was pestered to make some little leaflets for Cliff and his rock and roll performances, and soon realised I had to go do those things I mentioned in the post before. I really couldn't be bothered with travelling to sort out sending all these letters, given the weather, but eventually I got out of the house and made an effort of walking to the town. I eventually gave up1; seeing a bus in the distance made me decide to travel on it.

All the little trivial things I had to do once I got into town, I did. I also got rid of a Gamecube game and swapped it for a few copies of various games magazines and another recharge pack for the GBA; the original one I have has gone screwy. Furthermore, I also picked up the wondrous DVD of Being John Malkovich for the bargainous price of £7 from WH Smith. This, at least, gave the trip meaning.

I got home via the games shop, letting them know I'd got better and would be in for the hellish shift of eight hours in a black cotton shirt in stifling heat tomorrow. Still, I borrowed a few films that aren't out for rental until Monday: Phone Booth and Johnny English. I remember seeing a few people admiring the former and the latter... well, it's potentially going to be mediocre, such are my expectations, so I'd be happy to be completely wrong.

And then I got home, to find the plans of what I wanted to do were not going to happen today. My sister had nicked the PC to book a flight to Gibraltar. One-way ticket. She's off to live with her bloke around there, and good luck to her. Anyway, she'd been trying to book a ticket for the last two hours while I was out. What made this particularly amusing was that she's apparently booked several tickets but basically didn't get a pop-up screen showing confirmation from the booking website, because my browser blocks pop-ups. Which meant she kept thinking the site wasn't working and so kept ordering ticket after ticket.

Still, this madness only recame a realisation when she suddenly got several ticket confirmations through by email at the same time - it scared the bejesus out of her. It's worse for my mother - she's the one whose credit card was used to pay for this.

I should have used this time (while they were panicking) to email the people I sent things off to, saying they'd been sent, but I was too slow and soon after was trying to find phone numbers for the airline, for Luton Airport, for Barclaycard, to try to cancel several tickets. Add to that a bunch of annoying kids outside who kept coming up to ask if I was playing football with them2 every five minutes and I knew I wasn't going to have a quiet night.

Soon after this chaos died down, I was off to Nan's. We seemed stuck in Sainsbury's for what seemed like forever given there's a fancy new layout to the store - following that, Nan's was a bore. Just Nan taking digs about my sister leaving. "I remember what happened the last three times she moved out with a new bloke," and "I guess I'll have to take the sports channels off the satellite system," being notable lines used.

And I've just got home at about eleven, walked the dog, caught up on LJ posts and comments, and had Mum ask a plethora of annoying questions about crosswords (furthermore, I managed to upset her after I informed her I was not in a mood for crosswords). And after typing this up it's somehow 1 AM. How this has happened I don't know, but I'm blaming you lot for it. Oh, and proofreading. Excessive proofreading.

I really don't get a lot of free time anymore. Even over this week I just got caught trying to do lots and then stopped by someone, something, somewhere. Not a bad thing, just slightly puzzling. I should sort out a timetable for me, and allocate one evening to gamesplaying or DVD-watching or something.3

1 I'd love to say I travelled a fair bit but I'd got about 20 metres outside my house and already thought "Sod this, I'm waiting for a bus."2 Football with these kids is rather poor. It'll always end when someone smacks the ball hard at the smallest kid's head and he cries a lot. Or when this kid runs into a tree whilst trying to run after the ball. Or when he vomits after eating grass. He does tend to lose interest in things quickly.3 I try this some nights but inevitably leave AIM on and someone will be stressed out and I will spend that night trying to calm them down and make them happy. Oh, what I'd give for 20:20 hindsight.